


Nico and the Niners

by Jayagon5618



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Dark!Everyone, Dark!Percy, F/M, It's a really dark fic, M/M, Mortals, Mostly evil mortals, Vaguely Song-Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayagon5618/pseuds/Jayagon5618
Summary: Fifteen years ago, the demigods and legacies of Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter, and New Rome prevented Gaea from wiping out all of human civilization. They became heroes, though unsung by mortals, who remained ignorant of the service that was done for them. Five years ago, a pair of demigods who met during the great Battle of Half-Blood Hill were caught in a bank heist. A clear-sighted mortal with a vendetta against demigods used the opportunity to turn the United States government against their semidivine protectors. Now, New Rome has been destroyed, along with Camp Jupiter, Camp Half-Blood and New Athens are on lockdown, and eleven demigods, the greatest of the many heroes, are stuck outside on the run, hunted by the Exterminators, a force dedicated to wiping out their kind. One night, while they try to rescue another demigod being hunted, their mission goes wrong, and the light seems to have left their lives for good. What will happen to Nico and the Niners?





	Nico and the Niners

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own these characters, or anything else that was created by Rick Riordan. All rights for what he wrote go to him.

**Prologue**

 

Ten figures stood in a dark room on a dark night. In the center of their circle was a pile of wood, and on top was a long object covered in a sheet of golden fabric. One of the figures, his head covered by a large hood, held a golden-plated lighter in his hand. Engraved into the side of the lighter was an image of the sun. The fabric and wood had been drenched in clear oil. The man holding the lighter was chanting in an old and mostly-forgotten language, the words to ancient rites being given to a man he never wished to give them to. He flicked the lighter twice, and then again, and the third time a flame shot up. He finished his chant, but he spoke once more afterwards.

" _Arrivederci, mio amore,_ " he choked out, through his sorrow-tightened throat, "You always did leave at the worst times."

Then he threw the lighter to the base of the pyre. As flames began to spread and devour the wood, a draft blew through the sheet, so that a lock of long blond hair blew just past the edge, to where only the man who had lit the fire could see it. The fire burned for a minute, the others holding each other close, and tears fell from the man's dark eyes, streaming down his pale face. He could see the haunted eyes of another man, who shared his dark hair, but who had brilliant sea-green eyes. The two of them, the man knew, had seen far too much death. This one just hit harder than the others.

Suddenly, pounding footsteps sounded outside. Their weight was familiar to the ten people standing here. Quickly, around the barely-burning embers, they linked their arms together, and with a thought from the man, they slipped into the darkness, their only remaining solace. They had just lost their other one.


End file.
